


The Long Way Around

by karasunovolleygays



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2021 [12]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys Are Dumb, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Timeskip Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29244099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays
Summary: Akaashi doesn't want to miss Bokuto's birthday, but when he arrives at Bokuto's apartment, the visit doesn't go anything like he expects. Will his tired brain betray feelings long since given up as hopeless?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Valentine's Kisses 2021 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087100
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	The Long Way Around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joshllyman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/gifts).



> Kiss prompt: a hoarse whisper “kiss me”

Akaashi’s legs tremble in the wind and rain as he waits at the bus stop. It’s unseasonably cold for September, as frigid as it can possibly be without snow or ice, and he can’t wait until he arrives at his final destination so he can thaw out.

That is, of course, if someone is actually home.

Few things drag Akaashi out of his demanding routine of churning out manga chapters, but Bokuto Koutarou’s birthday is one of them. Though his former captain and longtime friend had stated Very Clearly on Facebook that he doesn’t want a birthday party, Akaashi has known him long enough to be certain Bokuto means the Exact Opposite.

However, all of their friends are either preparing for the upcoming pro volleyball season or elbow deep in children like regular people in their thirties are. This may be a party for two, but Akaashi is more than willing to devote his entire day to making Bokuto feel like everyone is there even if it’s just them.

It’s a trip Akaashi has made enough to know which line to take by heart, rather than rely on the gargantuan transit map at the bus station. Higashiosaka is as different from Tokyo as a place can get, but after over ten years playing for the MSBY Black Jackals, it’s where Bokuto has called home for a long time.

Soon the bus lets Akaashi off at the stop a stone’s throw away from Bokuto’s apartment. It’s larger than a single guy can possibly need, but he can’t blame Bokuto for spending his hard-earned pro athlete wages on comfort and style. 

As he disembarks the bus, a car speeds by, sending the murky puddle overflowing from the gutters into a frenzy. Frigid water flies up and coats Akaashi, dribbling down from head to toe while soaking into his clothes 

“Well that’s just great,” he mutters as he wraps his sodden jacket even tighter around him, a vain effort when a fresh gust of wind kicks up and blows right through his wet clothes and needles his skin. The hundred meter walk to Bokuto’s apartment might be the most interminable distance Akaashi has ever traversed. It’s certainly the coldest. Soon, however, he walks into the lobby of the building.

Hoping to kickstart his circulation again, Akaashi bypasses the elevator in favor of the stairs, jogging up five flights to reach Bokuto’s penthouse. Years of being stuck behind a desk conspire against him, and by the time he gets to the top floor, Akaashi is wheezing. If he gets pneumonia from this miserable slog, he won’t be a bit surprised.

Shaking too much to properly ring the doorbell, Akaashi slaps the button with his palm and bounces on the balls of his feet while he waits. 

A familiar voice curses inside the apartment, which elicits a fond smile out of Akaashi, quickly followed by the sound of lock clattering. The door slides open, and a gawking Bokuto greets him.

Clad only in a pair of workout trunks, Bokuto’s sweat-slicked torso and legs sit bare in front of Akaashi. The lean muscle definition he recalls from high school is long gone, replaced by long lines of tightly corded muscle covered in golden skin. Despite a long dry spell due to hectic hours, Akaashi swallows the urge to climb Bokuto like a tree. 

_Look at his face, look at his face,_ Akaashi chants in his head, jerking his gaze up so he definitely does NOT notice the trails of perspiration trickling down Bokuto’s prominent hip bones.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto’s surprise quickly morphs into a broad smile, and he yanks Akaashi close for a bone-crushing hug. “I wasn’t expecting you, but damn, it’s good to see you!”

Arms snaking around Bokuto’s taut waist, Akaashi buries his face in Bokuto’s dewy shoulder and wards away the urge to drool. Instead, he gasps, “Happy birthday, Bokuto-san.”

A moment later, Bokuto pries himself away from Akaashi with a frown. “Dude, why are you soaking wet?”

With a harrumph, Akaashi replies, “Have you opened a window lately? It’s cold, wet, windy, and miserable outside right now.”

“It is?” Bokuto grabs Akaashi by the hand and drags him into the apartment to the nearest curtained window. “I guess it is.” 

The lack of motion and his drenched clothes start creeping up on Akaashi again, and he begins to shiver. “I don’t s-suppose you have something dry I can b-borrow.”

“Oh shit, yeah!” Bokuto cries. “Take that wet stuff off. I’ll be right back.”

Akaashi complies with shaking limbs, and when Bokuto returns with a towel and a set of black and gold sweats, he is stripped down to his underwear. He accepts the dry bundle gratefully while Bokuto whisks away his dripping clothes. 

Once the soft, dry cotton slides over his skin, Akaashi moans. “I have never been so glad to be dry in my entire life.”

Bokuto chuckles. “Well, now I feel bad I was grumpy because the apartment gets hot when the air conditioner isn’t on.”

“No grumpy allowed.” Akaashi takes Bokuto’s hand and gives it a tight squeeze. “I’ve missed you.”

“Same here.” Ushering both of them to the inlaid couch and kotatsu, Bokuto tucks Akaashi into it and curls up into Akaashi’s side. “I wish I knew you were coming. I have like . . . no real food in the fridge. It’s mostly protein shakes, eggs, and leftovers.”

With Bokuto’s omnipresent warmth soaking into him, Akaashi closes his eyes and hums. “That’s what takeout is for, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto perches his chin on Akaashi’s shoulder and wrinkles his nose. “Y’know, we’ve been friends forever. I figured we would’ve moved on from the honorifics by now.”

“Do you want to?” Akaashi feels Bokuto nod against his shoulder. “Okay, uh, Koutarou.” Bokuto’s given name, one Akaashi can probably count how many times he has used, rolls off his tongue uneasily. Despite his hesitation, Bokuto beams at him when he does. “That really makes you happy, doesn’t it?”

“You have no idea.” Bokuto tosses a beefy arm over Akaashi’s shoulders and pulls him into a side hug. “So, _Keiji,_ since you’re a lot more fun than sweating my nuts off, I’m gonna devote my entire day to hanging out with my best buddy.”

A blush creeps up Akaashi’s neck and glows bright red on his cheeks. “I hope I remember how to have fun that doesn’t involve going to bed early.”

Bokuto throws his head back and laughs. “I do the same thing. I guess we’re both turning into old geezers already.”

“Old geezers don’t have an ass you can bounce a coin off of,” Akaashi says before he slaps a hand over his mouth.

Blinking, Bokuto’s mirth peters out and his eyes divert to the surface of the kotatsu, empty save for a jar full of protein bars. Finally, he says, “I never knew you looked at me like that.”

Akaashi stuffs his face into his sweatshirt and sighs. “I’m sorry. That was definitely something meant for the man in my head.”

“That’s not what I mean.” His gaze slowly dragging back over to Akaashi, Bokuto searches Akaashi’s face before he asks, “So does that mean you’re attracted to me?”

Back so rigid it almost hurts, Akaashi lets out a few metered breaths before he murmurs, “Does that bother you?”

Slouching forward, Bokuto groans and bangs his forehead on the kotatsu. “Goddamnit.” His fist pounds against the wooden surface. “Why am I like this?”

“What, hot?” Akaashi squeezes his eyes shut and he sighs. “Forget I said that.”

“No, and also hell no.” Bokuto crosses his arms on the table surface and props his chin. “You don’t get it, Akaashi. I’ve had a mean ol’ crush on you since I was sixteen. I never thought you’d be into that kind of thing so I just sucked it up and tried to be a good friend and teammate instead.”

Akaashi gags around the clot of air bottled in his throat. “You _what_?”

Bokuto hides his face in his arm and whimpers. “Man, this is some bullshit. We coulda been making out for _years,_ but instead, we’re both pining so much it’s a miracle no one came along and hung tinsel and lights on both of us.”

A giggle trickles out of Akaashi before he can stop it, soon bringing tears to his eyes. “That really is us, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto lolls his head to the side, cheek resting on his forearm while he gazes up at Akaashi with a tight smile. “So, uh, are we gonna do anything about this, or is the plan to just forget this happened?”

The nervous twitch of Bokuto’s lips makes Akaashi’s belly lurch. It oozes reminders of a time when the two of them had taken each other on their backs and carried both of them when the other really needed it. Bokuto hasn’t needed him for that in years, and Akaashi flushes at how quickly he yearns for that partnership again.

“What do you want, Bokuto-san?”

Sitting up, Bokuto’s hand slips over the curve of Akaashi’s jaw, his rough thumb stroking his cheek. “Same thing I always wanted. Volleyball for life, and you for even longer.”

Short, ragged breaths race out of Akaashi as the words resound in his brain. Even after all these years, even after achieving his dream of top levels of volleyball, he still yearns for Akaashi. 

Akaashi’s life has taken a dramatic turn since the days when they were never far from each other, with his career in editing monopolizing much of his time and thought. He can’t even remember the last time he went on a date or even wanted to.

It’s so simple when he stops thinking about it.

“I don’t suppose you could put me out of my misery and say something.” Bokuto kneads his lower lip between his teeth and closes his eyes. 

“Bokuto-san.” At the sound of Akaashi’s hoarse voice, Bokuto flinches. “Koutarou,” he corrects. “Kiss me.” Bokuto’s eyes fly wide open and he gawks at Akaashi. “If you want,” Akaashi adds.

A yelp escapes from Akaashi when strong arms band around him, yanking him into Bokuto’s lap. “Gladly.” 

The handful of needy fumbles that got Akaashi through college are not enough to prepare him for the sensation of Bokuto’s lips on his. It’s harsh and moist, that much is the same, but the sport-hardened hands on his waist hold him like he is made of spun glass — something delicate and beautiful and worth the effort of protecting.

Both of them are gasping for air when Bokuto finally tears his mouth away, eyes closed and face pasted with a grin a mile wide. “That was hella awesome,” he croaks.

“I —” Akaashi frames Bokuto’s face in his hands and takes in the slow dawn of Bokuto’s long, thick lashes over warm golden eyes.

A gurgling growl emanates from Akaashi’s stomach, and Bokuto chuckles. “Let me order some food, babe. You just made me the happiest guy on the whole damn planet. The least I can do is buy you dinner.”

Through his blush, Akaashi nods, and a few minutes later, Bokuto drops his phone on the kotatsu and drapes an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. “I’ll ditch the phone once the food gets here. They always get lost for some reason.”

Akaashi allows himself to melt into Bokuto’s side, the omnipresent heat of his bare skin soaking into Akaashi’s cold limbs. His eyes drift closed, and he hums as a cloak of well being envelops him. “Don’t let me fall asleep,” he murmurs.

“Why not?” Bokuto asks, pulling Akaashi even closer. “With the crazy hours you keep, I’m surprised you even had the energy to go half across the country just for me.”

Shaking his head, Akaashi nuzzles Bokuto’s chest. “Not that. I just don’t want to miss anything.”

Bokuto’s fingers slip under Akaashi’s chin, tilting his gaze upwards to take in a broad smile. “I’m still gonna love you when you wake up. Besides,” he whispers, leaning in so the words skate over Akaashi’s ear, “If you take a nap now, you’ll have plenty of energy to keep me up all night.”

There’s no way Akaashi is going to drift off to sleep after that. Instead, he gives himself over to the haven of Bokuto’s touch. For half his life, they have both molded, directed, and benefitted from each other’s strength. This time, though, whatever it is Akaashi gives Bokuto that makes him so happy, it escapes him, but that won’t stop him from finding out whatever it is and showering Bokuto in it.

Akaashi does indeed drift off to sleep, finding himself being nudged awake a while later by Bokuto brandishing a large paper bag. Glasses drooping halfway down his nose, Akaashi pushes them up and beams when he sees the branding on the bag, the minimalist outline of the Onigiri Miya logo. “I’ve been craving that for ages!”

“You always are, babe.” Bokuto settles next to Akaashi and pecks him on the cheek. “I got pork curry, cheeseburger, tuna mayo, and some berry cream cheese for dessert.”

Groaning, Akaashi takes the bag and pulls out four massive trays of rice balls. “This is way too much, but thank you for getting my favorite.”

Bokuto peels back the plastic wrap on one of the trays and takes one rice ball in each hand. “Which one?”

A bolt of boldness courses through Akaashi, and he lists forward to snare a kiss. “You,” he says, smiling against Bokuto’s lips. “The onigiri flavors are good, too.”

A bright red flush flares on Bokuto’s cheeks, and Akaashi smirks as he plucks a rice ball from Bokuto’s hand. “Thank you.”

Two hours and far too much food later, the two of them lay sprawled on the couch, Bokuto’s head resting on Akaashi’s lap. Akaashi’s fingers idly run through familiar silver-streaked locks. Bokuto sighs when Akaashi’s touch brushes over the shell of his ear. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“Yeah,” Akaashi rasps, throat thick with feelings he can’t begin to put into words. 

The next day, it will all be over until he can scrape himself away from his job and Bokuto has a day off from the pro tour. Until then, however, the moment is theirs.


End file.
